Waking Dream
by LolaStark
Summary: Maggy the Frog was not in the habit of telling children of their fate. But upon meeting young Charlotte Sarsfield at the Tourney of the King, she made an exception. Many years later Charlotte returns to King's Landing, now a woman, for the coronation of King Tommen, convinced her fate was lie. But Maggy the Frog is never wrong. JaimexOC
1. Prologue

**Waking Dream  
****by LolaStark**

**A/N: **Hi Everyone! Thanks for clicking on my first Jaime story. I was way to excited to write this that I had to pause working on my other story just to make it happen. This story will start with a prologue and then flash forward, picking up after the Purple Wedding (Note: If you haven't seen Season 4 or read A Storm of Swords, there will be spoilers ahead). I hope you enjoy this story, which I've been cooking up just for my fantastic readers. Thanks! xoLola

Disclaimer:

I do not own any characters or plotlines from George R. R. Martin's 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series nor from HBO's Game of Thrones. I only own my original characters and my plots, and do not profit from writing this. I write only to entertain myself and the readers.

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**|Prologue|**

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**|276 AC|**

The three year winter had finally come to an end.

There was still a slight chill in the air though most of the people of Lannisport rejoiced in the thawing of the snows. The hills bore new life, new growth that was green and fresh - a promise of a warm summer to come.

For the Westerlands, it was the perfect time to host a tourney for the King.

The most noble families had been invited to the Tourney for King Aerys and, for some, it was the first time they would catch a glance of the crowned prince at his first joust. Young Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had been knighted at the welcoming feast, hosted by Lord Tywin Lannister, and it was that night that his daughter, Cersei, was sure she had set eyes on her future husband.

Cersei had never met a more perfect man in all her thirteen years. He was not only handsome and brave, but more importantly to Cersei, he was the future king to all Seven Kingdoms. Her father said she would make a perfect match for him and as such, she was meant to be on her best behavior in his presence.

But Cersei wasn't a girl who liked to leave things up to chance. Perhaps she would catch the prince's eye and perhaps King Aerys might find their betrothal an alliance worth having in his kingdom. But she was not one to deal in happenstance.

This was the reason that led her to the festival that night, despite her father's protests. The tents were lit by lanterns and torches and most of her father's men were too drunk to notice that she'd snuck out of her rooms and dragged her friends down to the tourney fields. It would have been easier, sneaking around the tents, if it hadn't been for the sleepy-eyed child grasping at her hand.

They had just found the tent in particular that Cersei had been in search of when four year-old Charlotte pulled anxiously on her hand and brought them all to a halt.

"What is it Kitty?" she asked, her frustrated whisper grabbing the attention of Melara and Jeyne who stood boredly nearby. "You aren't afraid are you?"

"Of course she's afraid," Jaime hissed, when Charlotte didn't answer. "She's just a girl, not your plaything. You can't drag her out of bed in the middle of the night just to appease your folly."

Cersei frowned, looking down at the girl who was Charlotte Sarsfield. Jaime said the child wasn't her plaything, but she would beg to differ. Her father had sent for Charlotte nearly a year ago to amuse Cersei and for that reason alone. She was nine years the child's senior and yet Cersei felt a maternal desire to look after the her, despite how silly the poor dear was. Jaime called her Cersei's pet "Kitten", which was how Charlotte became known as Kitty.

"Fine, you look after her then," she replied sourly to her twin, holding Kitty's hand out to Jaime whose response was to scowl.

"And what am I to do with her?" he asked, his tone equally as annoyed and Cersei only smiled and shrugged and left Charlotte standing in the cool evening, shivering with her hand grasping to Jaime's.

Cersei and her friends disappeared behind a tattered red tent door whilst Charlotte and Jaime stood by, neither saying a word. Charlotte thought she might speak, though she did not know what to say to someone as old and handsome and Jaime Lannister. The festival noise surrounded them, and in the distance she could hear shouts of excitement and songs of the Westerland that were some of Cersei's favorites.

Young Jeyne was the first to exit, running scared from the tent door where she'd come from. She ran straight to Jaime, grasping at his arm which he kept firmly attached to Charlotte's.

"She's a witch!" the girl whispered fiercely. "You should have seen those evil eyes of hers. Yellow like the harvest moon. I swear it!"

"A witch, you say?" Jaime asked skeptically. "Are you telling me you three came all the way out here to talk to Maggy the Frog."

"She can see things, Jaime, things that have yet to happen," Jeyne replied stubbornly but Jaime shook his head, not bothering to ask anything further.

Jeyne Farman was a silly girl, one that Jaime never did particularly like. She was pretty enough, though not pretty enough that he had ever taken any notice of her. She and Melara would often be found in Cersei's rooms, cooing over Charlotte and dressing her in oversized gowns. And Charlotte bore it all, the appeasing child that she was.

Jaime still never understood why their father had sent the small girl to his sister. He supposed it had something to do with Lord Raemont Sarsfield and his piles of money. Charlotte was his eldest daughter and Tywin liked to make friends who had deep pockets like his own. But Cersei was growing too old for toys and wanted nothing more than to travel to King's Landing where all the most fashionable of society lived.

And it seemed as though soon she would get her wish, Jaime thought bitterly. Soon their father would propose the idea of marriage between Cersei and Prince Rhaegar and Jaime was sure he'd never seen his twin more excited. He didn't care to think of it though, nor of what fate would therein lie with sweet, innocent Charlotte. He looked down to see her eyelids falling, weariness draining the playful gaze from her bright blue eyes, and he lifted the four year-old into his arms as they continued to wait.

"You know," said Jeyne, breaking the silence and Jaime couldn't help but feel annoyed with every word that left her mouth. "Melara told me she was going to ask Maggy if you and her were going to marry some day," she told him as if it was some bit of news he'd be interested in.

He was not.

"I could have saved her the trouble," he replied boredly. "I wouldn't marry Melara Hetherspoon for all the gold in Lannisport." Jeyne looked at him with wide eyes, aghast. "And yes, you can tell her that."

"Oh?" she replied, her cheeks rising red with anger. "And who would be so lucky as to win the hand of the proud and perfect Jaime Lannister? Hm?" Her words were full of bitterness and defense of her friend. But Jaime refused to humor her or think of what fate lie ahead of him in his marriage bed.

Jaime made no pretenses about his indifference Cersei's friends - all of whom spent too much time staring at him with wide eyes, giggling endlessly with their preconceived notions of romance. It was all too much for him to bear. And he never gave them the time of day.

There was a loud commotion that erupted suddenly nearby, and Jaime looked over his shoulder to see several drunken squires involved in an escalating brawl. He'd have to intervene, he realized, rolling his eyes in annoyance, seeing that several of the squires were from Crakehall. Jaime was one of Lord Crakehall's squires and in charge of the three younger boys who trained alongside him. If he didn't stop the fight, Lord Crakehall would have his hide. Jaime may have just won his first tournament melee, but he was still the man's squire. He placed Charlotte back on her feet and she rubbed her eyes sleepily as she stared up at him in confusion.

"Stay with Jeyne until Cersei comes out, do you understand?" he asked her and she nodded, glancing up at Jeyne nervously.

"But you'll be back though, won't you?" she asked him in a weary voice, yawning as she did and he grinned, squatting down to her level.

"Of course, Kitten," said Jaime, his hand under her chin. "And then we'll get you to bed." Charlotte's hand was now grasping to another's as Jaime stood back onto his feet and stared straight at Jeyne with a stern expression.

"Where are you going!" Jeyne shouted, her frown even deeper than Charlotte remembered.

"Just watch over Kitty, you stupid girl," he spat. "Stay near the tent where some drunken fool won't mistake you for one of his whores."

Jeyne seemed taken aback by Jaime's vulgar words, whilst Charlotte found that she was quite unmoved by them. She had heard Cersei say much worse things in the privacy of her own rooms and in her young years Charlotte already understood the difference between words she could repeat in front of Lord Tywin, and words she couldn't repeat at all. And when it came to words said in Cersei's chambers, almost everything was a secret.

She and Jeyne were huddled nearest to the tent doors where Cersei and Melara had disappeared some time ago. To Charlotte it seemed like it had been ages since they'd stormed off. But if she was quiet, and when Jeyne wasn't biting her nails anxiously, she could hear the muffled words through the thick tent walls. She couldn't hear much that she understood, only words about marriage and babies. Cersei desperately wanted to marry the prince and have babies with golden hair, that much Charlotte knew.

She also heard Melara ask, just as Jeyne had predicted, if she would marry Jaime. The haggard voice replied as Jaime did, that the girl would not be his bride and that instead worms would have her maidenhead, whatever that was. To Charlotte it was all rather boring and she was too tired to care much about anything but the warmth of her bed inside the walls of Casterly Rock.

It was not long before she caught Jeyne's eyes on her. The older girl was looking down at her with a smile, the way Cersei did when she was about to ask her to do something Charlotte knew was naughty. But Jeyne was not Cersei, she thought. Certainly she'd never ask her to do something that would get her in trouble.

"Do you want your fortune told, Kitty?" the girl asked, a cruel curl of the side of her mouth that made Charlotte shake her head quickly. "Oh come, silly, it will be fun!"

"But she's a witch," Charlotte reminded her but Jeyne began pulling her small hand in the direction of the tent door.

"She hasn't hurt Cersei or Melara, has she?" she asked her as Charlotte dragged her small boots through the mud to keep from getting closer. "Don't you want to know who the Seven have fated for you to marry? Come on Kitty, stop dragging your feet!" she ground out through her teeth as she struggled to pull the small girl fighting against her.

Charlotte had never been so scared as she was then pushed through the tent doors and she screamed as she fought through the thick fabric walls, trapped like a spider in a jar. Jeyne's hand was no longer around hers and the girl's wicked laughter died away until all the child could hear was her own panicked breaths.

She stood there, her hands over her ears and her eyes shut tight as she waited for it to be over, hoping beyond hope that someone would find her before the witch did. She whispered over and over a prayer to the Seven, to the Mother to protect her from any harm that might befall her. She did not know how long it was until she heard the shouting.

"Where is she!?" a voice shouted from beyond the cloth walls. "Kitty! Where are you!?" She felt herself turn towards it, towards the voice that belonged to Jaime, only to instead run straight into an unknown figure.

She nearly screamed, seeing the yellow eyes for herself and the crooked smile of the old crone. But as soon as she thought she might, a sudden calm fell over her. She took three steps backward, looking up as the woman looked down. And she knew without a doubt she was staring at Maggy the Frog.

"Well aren't you a pretty child," the witch cooed, reaching out her weathered hand to run through Charlotte's hair. "Such lovely golden strands."

Charlotte stared up at the outstretched hand with curiosity, her eyes caught on the distorted flesh and the deep wrinkles of the woman's fingers. But then something glimmered in the dim candle light, and Charlotte's attention was locked on a bracelet that hung off Maggy's wrist. The old crone grinned, her what was left of her crooked teeth were exposed and Charlotte recoiled slightly.

"Kitty where are you? If you are playing tricks I will have your hide!" Charlotte heard then, but she ignored Cersei's command as Maggy laughed, pulling the child closer and closer until Charlotte could smell the woman's warm breath, like sage and wine.

"Would you like this bracelet, Kitten?" she asked in a hoarse whisper and Charlotte glanced down at the jewelry again, the uniqueness of it was intriguing and she felt drawn in by its sparkle. As it happened, Charlotte was very fond of things that sparkled, no matter the object.

And so she could not help that she nodded in that moment, disregarding Jaime and Cersei's panicked shouts from outside the tent as the old woman slipped the bracelet off her hand and reached it out to Charlotte, stopping just as the child's small fingers were nearly wrapped around it.

"But how about a trade, my dear? I will give you my bracelet and you give me something?" Maggy suggested and Charlotte looked down at her silk nightgown and even at the ribbon on her cloak, frowning in frustration.

"But what?" she asked, her brow furrowed, realizing she had nothing to give and the crone's smile widened.

"Perhaps that hair of yours," was her answer and Charlotte's hands went quickly to her hair anxiously. "No, don't worry. Not all of it. Just a piece, see here?" she asked, holding out a small dull knife, engraved with markings Charlotte had never seen a day in all her four years. And she reluctantly nodded, handing the hair over to Maggy who took only a small piece as she promised and draped the rest over the girl's left shoulder. "That should do. Deals a deal."

The bracelet was now Charlotte's, who was beaming excitedly as she placed the sparkling object in her nightgown pocket and turned to leave once more, stopped this time by Maggy's crackling voice.

"But don't you want to know your fate, Kitten?" she asked and Charlotte paused her steps.

The moment Charlotte nodded she felt the woman grasp her shoulder lightly, lowering her small crooked frame to Charlotte's side, her mouth near the child's ear as she whispered words that sounded like poetry. It would be the words Charlotte would remember with each passing day. Words that would haunt her for years to come.

And never would they be forgotten.

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**A/N:** So welcome to the story! I hope you enjoyed the prologue. I will be flashing forward in the next chapter to present day Charlotte and hope you enjoy her as much as I do. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to write an OC for Jaime - whom I adore. Hopefully I do her justice. Please review if you have a moment - I'd love to hear your thoughts.

**Note:** Maggy the Frog, Jeyne Farman, Melara Heatherspoon and Lord Crakehall are all canon characters as is House Sarsfield (although Charlotte is my OC). In the next chapter I will introduce a few more houses from the Westerlands, all of which are canon, though I may add a few OCs into them. Just wanted to clarify that I am not making up everyone you don't recognize...just a few (give or take).

Thanks again! xoLola


	2. Chapter 1

**Waking Dream  
****by LolaStark**

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**|Chapter One|**

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**|Present Day - King's Landing|**

If Margaery was tired of anything at all in the last fortnight it was planning weddings. It was a most cumbersome task and she had already wasted all of her energy on the first. She blamed Joffrey for ruining her day. She was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms for the better part of an hour and then as her husband choked to his well-deserved death she was once again simply, Lady Margaery, without a king and without a husband. And as she knew very well already, without a king, she was no queen.

It was all rather tiresome, she thought.

She stared up at the seating chart in despair, trying to place guests who nearly all hated one another was a task she would rather not be bothered with. But if she was to be Queen, then she would bear it all in good humor - at least outwardly. Inwardly she she was sick of it all - Sick of using her charms to seduce child kings, sick of watching her father help compile evidence against an innocent Tyrion, and most of all sick of writing letters to weddings guests she didn't even know.

She picked up a letter, written in a very refined hand, signed 'Lady Prester,' a name which seemed to escape her in that moment. She turned to Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime, both of whom were sitting silently at the long table on opposite ends, scouring over letters as she had been doing earlier that morning. It was a woman's work, but both Lannisters knew most of the attendees coming from the Westerlands better than she.

"Who are Lord and Lady Prester," she asked, her voice raised with a hint of cheer she had hoped would lighten the mood. It didn't seem to at first, Tywin continued his writing without pausing once, but it was Jaime who looked up, his brow furrowed in the most peculiar expression.

"Have they accepted the invitation?" Tywin asked without lifting his eyes from the parchment. She looked to Jaime.

"Lord Prester is indisposed," she replied, looking back down at the letter.

"Garrison Prester is always indisposed," scoffed Tywin. "And what of Lady Prester?"

"She writes that she and her sons will arrive for the coronation." she explained. "As I recall she was unable to come to the last wedding," Margaery said cautiously. "It is a rather long journey, is it not. Are not the Westerlands still facing some hardships."

"She'll no doubt be traveling with her father's guard," Jaime replied, reaching for the long scroll that held all of the invited guests and their houses. He scoured over them, looking for a set of names Margaery already knew he would not find.

"Who is her father?" she asked curiously.

"Lord Raemont Sarsfield," Tywin replied and Margaery's eyes widened.

While she did not know the name Prester, she most certainly knew the name Sarsfield. The Sarsfields were like the Tyrells and Lannisters. They had deep pockets and threw fine parties. They were no doubt one of Tywins biggest allies. But as she had heard it, Castle Sarsfield had been occupied briefly by the Young Wolf's army some time before the Red Wedding. She had been under the impression that the Northmen had slaughtered the hosts of any castle they took.

"You invited them against Cersei's wishes" asked Jaime, setting down the list. Tywin stared at his son a long while before looking to where she stood, watching them carefully and she could tell she was intruding.

"Margaery, please excuse us," Tywin said and Margaery stopped fussing over the seating chart and nodded demurely before exiting the room, her mind reeling with questions over the who this Lady Prester was that she could cause so much tension.

As the door shut behind the exiting figure, Tywin shot his son a questioning look. The two had barely spoken since Tyrion's trial began. Jaime was still reeling over his father's demand that he renounce his vows to the Kingsguard. It was their bargain, their deal that would spare Tyrion's life and yet force Jaime to become heir of Casterly Rock. It was a deal he was willing to make if it spared his brother. He wasn't sure why he was so insistent to believe it, but he knew Tyrion was innocent, despite the evidence piling up against him.

"What do you want with her?" Jaime asked when they were alone and Tywin sighed.

"Must I have a plot for everyone who I invite to King's Landing?" he asked boredly and Jaime set the parchment down on the table in frustration.

"Kitty has not been to the Red Keep in nearly ten years, since you sold her off to Garrison Prester for Sarsfield gold. So yes, if you are having her brought here against Cersei's wishes, then you must have something planned for her," Jaime replied, keeping his voice as level and calm as he could muster.

His father only stared, his leg crossed lazily over the other as he leaned back in the large wooden chair, his arms rest on either side of it as he waited for Jaime to say what he wanted to say. But Jaime would not rise to the bait. He knew better than to enter a fight he could not win.

"You think you know so much," Tywin replied, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chairs. Jaime did not relent. "Yes. I invited Kitty to King's Landing for a reason, knowing Garrison would not attend. She wrote to me, asking that I summon her and her sons to court and I obliged. She spent half of her life in my household, who was I to turn her down?"

"Why come here? Why not just go to Raemont to protect her?"

"She told me the circumstances under which she has been subjected-"

"And you being the hospitable man that you are, offered her a place at court? You are helping a noblewoman separate from her husband?" Jaime laughed bitterly. The thought of Charlotte, alone at Feastfires with a man like Garrison Prester. It was a sickening thought. Someone as sweet and innocent as Charlotte did not deserve that life. If his father was bringing her to King's Landing, helping her leave her husband, then there would be a cost. But Jaime was not stupid enough to ask what.

"She's no longer Cersei's pet," was all Jaime could say then and Tywin shook his head.

"She never was," was his father's cryptic reply. "You may go now."

Tywin dismissed Jaime boredly, an action that Jaime had known for most of his life. There was nothing else to be said and his father would hear no more, leaving Jaime to walk out of the doors of the study, adjusting the golden hand on his right arm as he did so. His father still looked at it in disgust.

Jaime had not seen Charlotte in ten years and the terms they had left on had been awkward at best. The last time he had seen her she was still a girl, barely five-and-ten with fear in her bright blue eyes. It was the eve of her wedding, a wedding his father had hosted in the keep of Casterly Rock. She was still very much a child then. He couldn't help but wondered how time at Feastfires might have changed her.

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"It's quite ugly isn't it," Sebastyn complained, looking up through the window of the carriage as it bounced on the rocky road leading towards the Red Keep. "I thought you said it was nicer than the Rock?"

Arryc pushed eagerly passed his brother, placing his small hands against the window as he stared up in awe at the castle on the cliff. Charlotte laughed, sliding across her seat as well. She peered up at the castle high above, the cliffs that held it solidly in place for centuries. Had it always been so big, she thought, remembering her departure very well on a hot summer's day.

"I said it was much bigger than the Rock, love. But nothing is more lovely than Casterly Rock in the summer," she explained but Sebastyn only rolled his eyes, annoyed with his mother as he usually seemed. She cringed at his expression and turned her head instead towards the window on her right.

They crossed the bridge with some haste, but she could see the sun high in the sky, reflecting off of the watery mass below it. Behind her the Great Sept of Baelor was waning from view and she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before they were brought before the great steps of the Red Keep.

The last time she had left, she had been in tears, she recalled. She was shamed by the memory of her former self. She wondered how things might have been different if she hadn't been the sweet little kitten they all knew. Things may have been different for her and perhaps she might have had the fate that Maggy the Frog had predicted all those years ago.

But now she was too old to believe in such nonsense. Fairy tales were for little girls, little girls with hopes and dreams and romantic thoughts in their silly little heads. Charlotte had been one such girl, once upon a time. But reality had sobered her and no longer was her head stuck in the clouds.

Now she was a woman.

"Is that the King, Mama?" Arryc asked, pointing towards the steps of the castle.

She could hardly make out the boy king, Tommen Baratheon who was the youngest of Cersei's children. The last time she'd seen him was as a babe, barely standing on his own and clinging to his mother's skirts.

"Yes sweet, that is His Grace, King Tommen," she affirmed. The carriage came to a stop then and she straightened her skirts, smoothing out what wrinkles she could but most of them were hard in place from the long journey from the Westerlands. "Now remember, he may look like a boy, but he is your king. You will call him, 'Your Grace' unless he tells you different, understand?" she questioned and Arryc nodded obediently. "Bas?" she asked sternly, looking at her eldest son who turned to her slowly. "Did you hear me?"

He did not speak but nodded his head curtly, adjusting his doublet as the footman came around to his door. Sebastyn was first to step out, his small boots hitting the stoney steps with a small thud. Arryc followed eagerly, climbing down with some assistance from his brother and then stood at his side. Charlotte was last and she held her hand out to the man, dressed in a white cloak that signified his rank as a Kingsguard. She smiled her thanks to him as he helped her down and she urged her sons forward.

"Your Grace," the old voice said, the voice of the man she'd known all her life. "May I present Lady Charlotte Prester and her sons, Lords Sebastyn and Arryc."

Charlotte gave her best curtsey and was proud of the regal bows her sons simultaneously performed. She looked up then, first to the man who had spoken, Tywin Lannister who seemed to have aged a decade since she'd seen him last. And then to the child who was her king. Tommen.

"Your Grace," she greeted, her voice carrying over the courtyard where they stood and he smiled down at her, an action that caused her smile to fade slightly.

It was a smile that was more than familiar to her, the way the corners of his mouth pulled at either end, the way his hair fell down near his face. She felt transported then, to her youth as she looked up into the eyes of a young Jaime Lannister. This boy was, without a doubt, the spitting image of his uncle.

"Lady Prester, it is an honor to have you in our capital," was Tommen's kind reply, holding his hand out to her which she obliged. She leaned down and planted a kiss on his cheek and watched as his face flushed pink and she grinned at his boyish reaction.

It was then that the woman clutching the boys shoulder stepped forward and Charlotte was forced to raise her eyes to her Queen. Cersei Lannister had always been the most beautiful woman Charlotte had ever known. Even still, the people of their home region called her the Light of the West. But now it seemed as if that light was beginning to dim. Cersei was no longer the fiercely beautiful lioness from their youth. Time had aged her as had the death of her son.

"Your Grace," Charlotte whispered, reaching in towards her childhood friend and kissing her on both cheeks. "I was sorry to hear of your loss." She reached out for Cersei's hand. But as the woman's cold palms touched her own, Cersei jerked them back to her side. Her reply was cold and returned with an even colder smile.

"Justice will soon be served," was all she managed, looking down at Charlotte with power in her green eyes. "I was surprised to hear of your arrival, Kitty. Especially since I did not see you at Joffrey's wedding."

It was as Charlotte expected, Cersei's bitterness was still eating at her as it had for the last twelve years. Charlotte wanted to reply that she had not been invited to the wedding or perhaps that she had been too ill to travel at the time, but she could not get out a single word before Tywin interrupted Cersei's coldness with a look of his own.

"She was in no condition to travel," he said curtly. "A woman with-child would be irresponsible to travel such a distance."

Cersei glanced down at Charlotte's midsection, finding it flat and unaltered, and raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"And where is your child now, Lady Prester?" she asked and Charlotte frowned, looking down at her hands that rested over the empty void of her womb.

"Seven willing he is in a better place, Your Grace," she replied, bite in her tone though she tried to compose herself. "The child was stillborn."

There was a silence then that made evident Charlotte's victory over the woman's distasteful words. Cersei shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Charlotte's unyielding eyes. She then grabbed hold of Tommen's hand and led him towards the castle doors. Tywin followed, but not before leaning in and kissing Charlotte's cheek.

"Come boys," she urged and Arryc clasped hold of her hand as Sebastyn followed, his eyes focused the Kingsguard knights in awe.

At the foot of the staircase they were told they should rest before the coronation that evening. Charlotte saw her maid, Blanche, descend the steps eagerly, having arrived a full day before she and the boys. She had spent the entire time readying the Presters' chambers for their stay. Blanche was a large woman, with cheeks that were almost always pink and a laugh that was so jolly that it could even bring Charlotte out of her depressions.

"Milady," she whispered excitedly, waving as she descended the steps and Arryc ran to the woman, wrapping his small arms around the woman's side and she squeezed ruffled his hair gently. "I was just told you were arriving and had the servants bring up a bath to your rooms."

"Is the water hot?," Charlotte sighed longingly and Blanche laughed and nodded.

"So hot it will scorch that fine skin of yours, I daresay," she teased and Charlotte laughed. "Shall I have the boys bathed and dressed for the coronation?" she asked.

"Yes and do make sure Arryc gets a good rest in. He barely slept on the journey over and I know without one he may not make it through the first course." Blanche nodded at Charlotte's instruction and she watched as her sons ascended the steps, Blanche scooting them up higher and higher until they disappeared beyond the steps.

Charlotte stayed behind a few moments longer. She looked on the walls that had once been decorated in Targaryen red, portraits and tapestries of Targaryen legends were now long gone, and covered with adornments of red, gold and black. If it was a Baratheon keep, one would not know it simply by the decor. It was clear who ruled the throne. Lions, not stags. She started up the stairwell and she longed to be engulfed in the steaming hot water that waited for her above. Though she could not decide if it she would make it passed the bed before falling asleep.

She had barely made it to the top before she saw him.

The tall figure that stood there with a grin. Though she had not seen his green eyes in nearly ten years, she knew immediately it was Jaime. He looked so regal in his white cloak and golden Kingsguard armor, so much more a man than he ever did before. His hair was shorter, and his smile fonder than it once was. But his stance was always the same.

She felt very small when she stood before him, craning her neck up to meet his gaze and she gave him a weary smile in return as she reached out her hand to his. He lifted his left hand, instead of his right, to take hers and she looked down at it oddly. In place of the soft flesh of his right hand was a solid gold one, intricate in design and without movement. Her eyes darted up to him with worry.

"Oh Jaime," she sighed, her hand on his arm. "I had heard of your hardships. But this-" she trailed off upon noticing the embarrassment in his eyes.

"Do not fret," he tried to joke, smiling as he brought her fingers to his lips. "It is a long story. In fact, it's rather boring now that I think of it. I had rather forgotten how unexciting it was."

"Somehow I find it quite impossible that any adventure of yours could lack in excitement, Ser," she teased, glancing at her fingers still in his. She looked around as people passed and began to feel as though their eyes lingered too long on their over familiarness and she pulled her hand from his.

"And what of your tired eyes, my dear?" he asked her, his smile fading slightly into a frown as he inspected her features and she knew he saw how frail she had become. "You are unwell," he surmised and she averted her eyes from his.

"I assure you King's Landing will do worlds for my health," she tried to say with some cheer but he was not fooled. "Losing a child is hard," she explained. "But it has been a month and I am healing. I will do much better here than I would at Feastfires. Garrison would have it this way as well."

It was clear he did not know what to say. Everything he was going to say on the matter of Garrison Prester, he had said to her ten years ago. Jaime had never liked the man and in front of him she did not feel an obligation to pretend that she felt anything but hatred for her husband. But she did not come to King's Landing to think of that man. And she certainly wouldn't waste another minute on him.

"Come," she insisted, pulling on his arm. "My sons have been eager to meet the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. It is all Arryc talks of. He wants to be a knight more than anything."

"Lord Commander," he scoffed, letting her lead him down the corridors, her arm locked in his. "I had nearly forgotten. The title is so new to me I think I hardly deserve it."

"Your false modesty is astounding, Ser," she joked and he laughed as she had hoped. "But surely I recall that you were appointed Lord Commander under young Joffrey's rule as well?"

"Yes, a rule I spent almost entirely as Robb Stark's captive," he added and she began to understand. "And as I understand it, I was not the only prisoner the Young Wolf took from the West."

"You understand correctly," she agreed. "Father thought I'd be safer at Sarsfield in the mountains than exposed on the coast at my husband's keep. It would seem he was wrong however and it did not take long for Robb Stark to take castle Sarsfield. Though I will say, for all the atrocious things I heard of the King in the North, I was surprised to find that he was a most pleasant boy."

"Robb Stark, pleasant?" Jaime asked her in surprise. "He must have been a much changed man from the boy who tied me to a stake and set his beast on me. Though of course I did not have a fine a face as yours. It is no wonder he could not bring himself to harm you."

"Whatever the reason, I might even say I enjoyed his stay. He was so ambitious and brave. I saw a great deal of my old self in him," she reminisced before meeting Jaime's eyes once more, her smiled turned downward. She recalled when she'd heard of the Red Wedding and how disappointed she'd been when she'd heard who was behind the king's death "I cannot say I was happy to hear of his slaughter."

"You must know, none of that was my doing, Kitty," he tried to explain, his voice more embarrassed than defensive. "No one knew if any harm had come to you. When I heard of your capture, I wished it _had_ been me that put that knife in his chest."

There was an awkward silence that washed over them then as Charlotte tried to decipher what exactly his words had meant. They had stopped walking and she realized then that she was gripping his arm and and he hers. Everything seemed to overwhelm her then, all the memories, all the smiles and the words between them. She didn't know who took a step forward but somehow their bodies seemed closer than before.

And in that moment she felt at home.

"I have missed you, Jaime," she whispered, looking downed in shame as she said so.

It was not so much the words that embarrassed her but the way she had said them, the sigh in her voice, the desperation in the way she'd spoken his name. But he did not seem to take notice of it. Instead she felt his hand on the side of her face, cupping her cheek and her eyes closed at his touch. His fingers slid down until they were under her chin, an action that made her feel very young again, and she opened her eyes to meet his.

"I missed you as well, Kitten," he said, kissing her forehead lightly and she felt the heat rush back to her cheeks again.

The last time she'd been this close to Jaime it had been under very different circumstances. She couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different as she felt his lips against her skin. But those days had long passed, she realized.

"Milady," called Blanche and Charlotte jumped slightly, startled by the interruption and she turned to see her maid standing the doorway of the rooms she'd occupied as a child. "Oh, my dear I am so sorry to intrude," she apologized, taking in the sight before her and her eyes soon widened with excitement. "Oh my Seven! Ser Jaime Lannister, as I live and breathe!"

Blanche ran towards him, holding her skirts in her hands as she did so and wrapped her arms around Jaime as if he were her own child. Jaime, meanwhile, laughed allowing the woman to fuss over him eagerly as she touched his face and his short hair all followed by several kisses on the cheek.

"All these years you still need a nurse, Kitty?" he teased and Charlotte placed her hands on her hips in mock annoyance.

"The poor thing would be lost without me," Blanche replied playfully and Charlotte was grateful for a reason to escape.

She left the older woman out in the corridor with Jaime, not bothering to look back as she entered the rooms, closing the door behind her and letting out a great sigh. It was overwhelming, being in King's Landing again. She had thought she could bear it all, but now she wondered if she had been mistaken.

She did not wait for Blanche to come back in the room and undo the ties of her dress and her corset. She could hear their voices still outside the door, but instead of listening to Jaime's words she instead tried to concentrate on the strings and pulling them apart one by one. As her dress fell to the floor she made her way to the tub and lowered herself, slowly, into the steaming water, feeling her breath catch as the hot water slipped over her flesh.

But it was a welcome burn, she thought. Anything to wipe her mind from her encounter with Jaime.

"Oh, Milady!" Blanche shouted, entering the rooms furiously. "You should not have bothered yourself with those ties."

"It's alright, Blanche," she insisted. "I managed just fine." Blanche reached down to the floor, holding her back as she did so and Charlotte laughed. "Stop fussing you silly woman," Charlotte said with a small smile as she closed her eyes. "Come and help me, won't you."

"I wonder how you would survive if I weren't here to wash your hair for you," Blanche teased and Charlotte let out a laugh. "That color on your cheeks does you well," she whispered then, grinning and Charlotte opened one eye, looking up at the woman in mock disapproval. "Don't give me that look Miss. Kitty, I know too well that only Ser Jaime can make my lady smile so big."

"You must have been seeing things," Charlotte tried to argue.

"There's no shame in it, child. That man would move Seven Heavens for you."

"Yes, Jaime is protective. He has always cared for me like a sister," she agreed and Blanche scoffed.

"Pardon my saying so, dear, but you didn't see the way he was looking at you. It was not the way a man looks at his sister," argued Blanche and Charlotte did her best to push away any thoughts of just how wrong the woman was.

"Looking at me?" Charlotte questioned, turning to Blanche who was nodding her head.

"Through new eyes, he was," Blanche added. "I imagine he was as pleased as any man to see you grown up into such a beauty. You're not a child anymore. And Jaime Lannister damn well noticed."

Charlotte contemplated the woman's words as she pulled the cloth over her arms. Her father had hired Blanche to be her nursemaid from the time she left her mother's womb. Blanche was more of a mother to Charlotte than Maedge Serrett had ever been. She had stayed with Charlotte through all her young years at Casterly Rock, and had been the one to take care of her when Tywin shuffled them off to King's Landing the first time. Even now that Charlotte was grown, Blanche stayed on to take care of Sebastyn and Arryc and she couldn't be happier doing it.

From Blanche, Charlotte held no secrets.

"Would you mind opening a window, Blanche?" she asked, fanning her face as she felt the heat rising. "It is quite warm, is it not?" Blanche, who was in the process of obliging Charlotte's request, nodded her assent.

"Not to worry, dear," the woman replied, pushing the window open and breathing in the city air. "The winds of winter will soon be upon us. Do you even remember your last winter?" she asked but Charlotte could no longer concentrate on the woman's words as she sat up quickly in the bath.

_Kitten you shall remain until the winds of winter are upon you. It is then you will rise…._

"What is it, dear?" Blanche asked as the words echoed in Charlotte's mind, the raspy voice of Maggy the Frog whispering her fate on a cool spring night.

Charlotte realized perhaps there was one secret she held from Blanche. The fate she had been dealt was not like the prophecy she had learned so many years ago. She had stopped believing in those words and had instead given way to the reality that was her life. The only truth she had found was a truth she'd always known. '_Beware the Lioness_.'

"Are you alright?" Blanche asked, once again interrupting her thoughts, and placed a hand over her forehead. "You look pale."

"It is nothing," Charlotte lied. "Just happy to be home."

But perhaps, she wondered, it was something after all.

* * *

Hours after the boy king's coronation, the feasting hall was still drunk with merriment.

Laughter filled the halls for the first time since Joffrey's death as if a veil of darkness had been lifted. Ladies danced in their fine dresses and the minstrels played songs of Lannister victories. Men were full of wine, slurring their stories of great battles they'd fought.

All the while his brother sat below in chains.

He didn't want to think of it, of Tyrion in the dungeons wasting away as he awaited a trial for a crime he did not commit. He did not want to think of his father and whatever plots he had in store for Kitty. And most especially he did not want to think of Cersei, her wicked heart that she had used against him for so long. He could not help but ache for her, for his twin for whom he had sacrificed everything.

He should have been happy to be home, with the people he loved. But everything was going to hell.

He had not seen Kitty rise from the table until she was walking out the door, holding the arm of his father. He furrowed his brow, noticing her solemn expression. He had known when Tywin invited Kitty to King's Landing that there was more than common courtesy involved. If his father refused to tell him, then it was up to him to find out on his own, he realized.

He left his post in the hands of Loras, summoning him over to stand nearest to Tommen whilst he opted to indulge his curiosity. He could hear their whispers as they climbed the steps up towards the tower of the hand but could not quite make out what they were saying aside from pleasantries. It was not until they reached the top that he heard the large door to his father's study close with a thud.

It was a thick door, meant for privacy of those on the other side, but Jaime had always had exceptionally good hearing. He could hear the distinct sounds of Kitty's calm voice and Tywin's stern tones coming from the other side. But it was clear he had missed part of their conversation before his ear was pressed to the door.

"He's innocent, isnt' he," she was saying. "That's why you need me to do this?"

"Innocence matters very little here, my dear. You know that," Tywin replied boredly and Jaime knew they were speaking of Tyrion. "It is Justice the people want."

"You mean it is what _she_ wants," Kitty corrected but Jaime heard no reply from his father but assumed he had made his answer clear in those eyes of his. "This is wrong."

"Don't forget our deal, Kitty," Tywin reminded her and Jaime's curiosity rose. "You were the one who reached out to me."

"And I did not agree to murder."

"Didn't you?" he asked.

There was silence. Jaime was more than confused, as if trying to put together a puzzle in the dark and he waited for her answer though it seemed as if it would never come. Her eyes would give her away as they always did.

"What if I cannot do this?" she asked him finally. "What if I-"

"Do you want your husband dead?" he interrupted, this time his voice more forceful than before. But it was the question that surprised Jaime more than anything. "Did you not ask me to make it so? It is as simple as that."

"It is not that simple. Tyrion is family to me. We were raised together."

"Which is why I chose you. I took you into my household and treated you like one of my own, did I not?"

"You did, but-"

"And because of that I expect certain things from you," Tywin said and Jaime could imagine the intimidation he was using now. "You know what it means to be a Lannister Kitty and a Lannister always pays his debts does he not?"

"Yes, I understand that I have a debt to you, My Lord but you must understand the position-"

"No, it is _you_ who must understand," Tywin nearly shouted. "You asked me for my help knowing full well I do not give out my favors freely. If you want to guarantee your sons' safety from your husband's threats then you will do as I have asked. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes," she said simply. "Yes I will do it."

"Good, then we have a deal."

Jaime removed his ear from the door then, and quickly made his way back down the steps before he would be found out. And all the while he could not help but think he still did not know exactly what it was that his father wanted Kitty to do.

But now he _did_ know what it was that Kitty wanted with Tywin.

Garrison Prester's death.

* * *

**A/N: I am so stunned at all the positive feedback my prologue received! Thank you for all the kind reviews and the interest in my first Jaime story. I am so excited to see what you guys think coming forward. I revealed a smidgen of the prophecy to you all but believe me that is not all of it. There is more to come, as well as finding out just what Tywin asked Kitty to do. Please review if you have a moment, your feedback is so inspiring. Thanks! xoLola**


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